Hospital Jello
by therussianpunk
Summary: Soul is in the hospital for some stunt he tried to pull and once again Maka has to pick up the pieces, but this time at least shes not alone.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't even know, I'm sorry.**

Maka leaned against the wall again. It was so pale and shook under her rib case that rattled with unsure breathe. The wall was so so pale. So dreary, so light, so small. It was bigger than her, so what did that make her? Nothing, she answered and dug her nails into the wall. Nothing, nothing could be done, she did nothing. She is nothing. She slammed her fist into the wall. The wall that separated the tortured and bleeding Soul and the nothing that was her. She dug her nails into her palm and didn't bother with the tears. They were an instinct of sadness and hatred and guilt. Sometimes the instinct when something cold gets in your eyes. Like last summer when her beloved friends and her played in the chipping heavens that fell onto Earth at such a low temperature. Where were they now? Where the hell were they all now? She grabbed her skirt and held it so tightly as she wept. The hallway was so bare. So dark, so small in her eyes that were glazed. So small compared to Soul and his condition. But even Soul and his condition was so small compared to the Earth. That would make her nothing. Yes, nothing. She slammed her hand into the wooden bench and it burned with the tightness of the first and the impact of the wood. Oh yes, it hurt. She felt nothing, she felt nothing except for such weakness. Oh yes, she felt weak, and small and like nothing.

"Maka!" She looked up at the black pupil hair that bobbed next to her. He sat and they were silent. He gave her a bottle of water, other than the crinkling of the cheap plastic, it was silent. The hall was so so silent. It made her tremble, yet she still didn't wipe her eyes. Death the Kid simply looked at his hands. His rings, his white pale hands. They were not shaking like hers, no they were steady. She envied this. "Maka," He whispered, he said it more to the hallway then her. He didn't look at her. "I am sorry." She nodded weakly again and he peered down at her. "I'm a sympathetic cryer." He handed her his embroidered handkerchief and she took it. She simply wrung it.

"I spoke with the do-" she gasped, "the, um, doctor."

"What did they say?"

"I didn't listen, Soul was bleeding." She thought about it and traced the D and K on the cloth. "Badly." She gave a weak smile and Kid sighed.

"I'm no good at comforting."

"Don't, comforting is some form of pity."

"It is a respect for the other person's sadness." He said and she shrugged. "Maka, letting me win a fight, this is bad."

"Told you." He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Where are they?" She wiped her face and looked at him.

"I don't know, Maka, I'm sorry."

"Black-Star is Soul's best friend."

"I'm offended." He said. She huffed a weak small laugh. "Liz and Patty are finishing a job in the islands."

"You still take jobs? Even being the Lord of all Death?"

"You shouldn't inflate my ego with your formal titles for me."

"It is your title."

"Only one of them."

"You Have others?"

"Well yes, everyone does. Like you, yours are Maka, , Meister Maka the greatest Scythe-Master," he sighed and gave her hand one last squeeze, "ever."

"Oh, how you mock me Lord Death." She wiped her face again, much dryer and she looked at him. His face was skinnier and his amber eyes glowing like a small dying fire. He looked the same. He looked scarily different. A nurse came out of the room and nodded. She sprung to her feet and raced into the room. Kid walked slowly after her, she ran to the bed and looked at him. He was sleeping. Or Kid hoped so.

"Maka, I'll wait out here. I doubt it's a good luck that _I,_ the symbol of death, is here." She nodded and smiled a little bit. She scanned his face and huffed as she sat.

"I'll tell you what happened. Later?"

"Later."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Probably shit, who knows (?)**

The blue-haired man and the taller woman stood near the produce aisle. He was holding a cabbage. She, holding a bag of chocolates. "For Maka," she had said. Maka wasn't fond of chocolates, but would eat them. She preferred pretzels or chips, but she would eat anything.

"I went to Soul's hospital room yesterday." Black-Star said as they trotted to the sliding doors with the plastic shopping bags. They were cooking for Maka. Well, Tsubaki would and Black-Star would talk and talk. Even the new infamous Kid was going to keep her company. Liz and Patty would be home soon, though only Kid said that. He seemed unsure and hesitant.

"And?"

"Tsubaki, it was bad. But he'll be okay. I did visit him, his god visited him. So, now he must be okay. You see?"

"Black-Star-"

"He will. He will live for Maka and me and you and Kid and Liz and us."

"Yes, Black-Star. I hope so." Her soft voice said, it sounded like droplets of water and the soft hum of the night.

Maka looked so small. Black-Star had never seen her looking this small and weak. She was not weak. She looked so pale with the cobwebbed memories of sleep, abandoned and now full of spiders. She must be so sick and worried and tired. And _weak,_ but she wasn't weak. Kid was standing; pacing. He looked up, his lips molding his lip with worry as well. The apartment was symmetrical; Kid's handy work. Maka hadn't even tried to stop him. She looked up and Tsubaki ran to her and held her tightly. Black-Star hugged her and smiled at Kid.

"I am so so sorry." She nodded and smiled weakly at them. Tsubaki looked at her pretty friend, a handkerchief in her hands and she bit her lip again. "We will stay as long as you want and cook and clean and comfort you."

"Is comfort pity or respect for a person's sadness?" She asked, her hair tracing her face and her green eyes gone grey. Grey, oh Maka, she thought. She looked to Kid and he nodded.

"Respect."

"Hmm," She walked around the room to the kitchen and then back. "What will you cook?"

"Stew." Tsubaki said.

"Cabbage stew." Black-Star made a face by pulling at one eye and sticking out his tongue. Maka stiffly giggled. "Smells good though."

"I tried to cook something, she wouldn't eat it."

"I don't like seafood."

"Since when?" Black-Star asked.

"Since the time we had to fight a 'seafood dealer.' It was disgusting, he smelt like it and so did we for the-" She gasped and held her face and blinked. She was crying. "I'll go get, a, um, something." She left the room and into the hallway that swam in moonlight and darkness. Like a pool of pen ink.

"Has she told you anything?" Black-Star asked the tall Death Lord.

"No." He looked around and loosened his tie.

"Long time. I do wish it was lighter events we meet again under."

"Yes, how are you two?"

"We are working in the Canada-America area. It's nice." Black-Star said.

"And you, Kid?"

"I keep busy running the school, um, you know." He gave an awkward smile. "Maka and Soul work here. I often don't see them. It is strange. Liz and Patty are in the islands, taking care of a witch."

"Really, don't they need you?"

"They are advanced, they hardly need me anymore. I don't get to fight enough anymore."

"How is Maka's whole 'being a weapon' thing going?" Black-Star asked in an almost mocking tone as he watched Tsukaki begin to cut the cabbage and he looked back to the fizzing baby blue pot with water.

"I haven't asked her. Soul isn't a meister, so I suppose she hasn't really done anything with it." He sat down in a brown wooden chair and sniffed a chubby glass of alcohol. She entered the room once again and they all looked to her. She held a long bottle and nodded satisfied.

"Soul hides it all. I hate the taste, yet it does the job. He would be sad if he missed us getting drunk, of course, we must do it again once he is out." She retrieved four glasses and poured quite a lot into each. Kid looked at her and sniffed both chubby glasses now. Different. She took a very long sip out of one cup and plopped down into a chair. "Want to play cards, Kid?" He stared at her, his eyes wide and nodded meekly. She smiled and drank the remainder of the glossy liquid. "Poker?"

"Don't know how to play." He whispered.

"Soul taught me, it's actually easy."

Kid didn't end up learning, but instead watched her drink about two-thirds of the bottle during that night and Tsubaki seemed worried when she didn't puke. She just didn't. Black-Star drank with her, but the other two watched in fixed concentration. Maka could control her alcohol but Black-Star seemed too determined to lose. Tsubaki left with a hazy blue haired man hanging onto her. She hugged Kid and then Maka.

"Will you stay with her? No one should be alone at this time."

"Yes, and I don't think you should let anyone with this much whiskey in their bodies be alone." She smiled.

"You seem happy, Kid. No right now, but is life making you happy?"

"Yes, I do wish I got to see you all more." Tsubaki exhaled.

"I think it was good you didn't drink."

"Yes, I think so too."

"We'll be at the hospital tomorrow and then we can meet up."

"Let's get her out of the house." Kid said as her cheering erupted, she was watching sports. Something dreadful and unlike Maka or any of them. "My home?"

"I almost forgot you live here in Death City. Yes, we'll see you there." She waved goodbye and Black-Star laughed at something and they both left the melancholy Kid.

"I thought the first time I would ever spend a night alone with you, you would be sober. Or so I dearly hoped." He grunted as he switched the tv off. She laid on the couch with her eyes closed. "I dearly hoped, yes, I dreamt of this. You were the victim of my crush for quite a while, Maka Albarn." He traced a pile of books and picked one at random and sat down. She laid like a shark gliding thru the ocean or a swan with a broken wing. She must be sad. He should ask her, ask her what happened. Soul is battered and she is sad and getting drunk. Had she changed this much? Had Soul finally made an impact on her mind, that wonderful mind? Pity. "You see, father thought we would get married. He thought so and constantly pushed me. I thought you loved Soul, so I never did. Do you think I should have?" He asked the lump. "I went on a date last week, she was a nuisance and kept talking about herself. I wasn't listening. She wasn't very interesting. I don't think any other girl would be when you have met Maka Albarn." He flipped the page and the lump turned.

"I ain't in love with Soul." Kid froze and she closed her eyes again.

"Tell me what happened." He whispered. "Maka. Please. I know you're awake."

"Soul happened. His confidence in his own power and my idiotic stubbornness. He went on a mission alone after I said it was no use. I don't know why I said it, but it was true." she said. "There was a job which one of the students got injured on. A group of witches, in training. They were in New York and I said we should wait, we should wait for the girl to get better and her weapon. He said I was selfish, said I was being careless." She sulked into the pillow. "He snuck away from me like I was his mother." She gave a sickened laugh. "It was my fault. It was my fault. It was my fault." She cried in a steady voice that could scare the dead, she chanted it like a hymn. "It was my fault! He could be dead and it would be my fault. I don't know what I would do if he died. I hate not knowing. I hate me. I hate you and I hate Soul." She dug her fingernails into her hands, making small white crescent moons.

"Stop." She did and she pulled herself up into a sitting position and she wiped her face again with the white eggshell cloth. "It's Soul's own confidence that got him injured. You can't really blame yourself. He was stupid."

"He might die, Kid! You can't talk about a deadman like that!" She spat.

"He isn't dead."

"He could be. Right now."

"He's not, they would call you." He opened the book he had been trying to read. "Why do you have this book, Maka?"

"I don't know. It's about a witch and a dragon and a warrior."

"Have you read it?"

"Yes, I read it when I was small. I wanted to be like the warrior." She whispered and he sat next to her. He was _not_ good at comforting, they both thought.

"I read it too. I wanted to be like the dragon." He said.

"Why?"

"I wanted to spit fire and get attention."

"The dragon got the bad kind of attention."

"I got none."

"You got the girl's." He smiled and she laughed; such a choked laugh and he laughed and she laughed harder. He laughed so hard at her small laugh that grew big, bigger than her. They sat like maniacs and laughed. They were indulged by the madness like once before in their lives, this time it was self inflicted.

"You noticed, Albarn." He choked and elbowed her.

"You're Death the Kid, everyone noticed."

"Soul got more."

"Black-Star got more." She laughed and wiped her eyes.

"Black-Star." He laughed at the name. She nodded; smiling, sadness hidden behind those pearly teeth that trapped her sins. "I'm pretty sure Stien got more lady attention than me."

"No." She paused and stood. "Trust me, I don't think he did."

He did not meet her eyes as she walked to her bedroom.

He didn't hear the gagging later that night.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A very short and possibly** **shitty chapter. I promise next week will have a longer one (and better one). Anyway I hope it is possible to enjoy it in the least.**

"It hurts like shit. Did 'ya know that?" Soul spat as he sat in his bed. Kid shrugged. "Well, it does."

"It is a serious injury, I would guess that it does hurt." Kid groaned and paced about, his arms crossed. "She will be back soon with lunch."

"How are you, Kid?" He said with slight sass.

"Fine, and I bet youre dandy."

"Yes, can't you tell." They gave eachother a cheeky smile. "How's Maka holding up?" Kid stared at him with an almost distrust. "You came in together, so are you guys talking?"

"Yes, it has been a while."

"I'm like the bond that brings people together. I am Jesus."

"Then you are Black-Star's son."

"Yahoo!"

"Two sandwiches, one salad and jello." Maka said. Tsubaki dropped the jello and sat down in a chair.

"Thank you Maka." Soul said she beamed and Kid could see the red in her eyes. Poor hungover Maka. "How are you?"

"Good." She lied. "You?"

"I'm apparently dandy, Kid is a doctor." The patient said as Kid groaned from one chair. He unfolded his sandwich and began to eat. He looked tired too, but somehow it worked. It worked with his sturdy yet delicate features and wavy black hair. Even the dark circles could look good on him.

"I had no idea."

"Yes, but really they say I'll go home next week." Soul said.

"Really?" She said and smiled widely at the bed. "That's great."

"I'll have to be in bed rest, however."

"I'll make sure your bed is clean, then."

"Thank you, Maka." He said and she smiled and rubbed her nose. Tsubaki then left with Black-Star out of the hospital room and Kid soon followed, and the white door secured their secrecy.

"I am so sorry."

"Maka, you realize it's my fault. I'm an idiot." 'That's what Kid said too' she thought and rested her head on his shoulder and whimpered. Souls heart twinged like a broken stick, he never heard Maka like this, other than the times when she got mad, but this, it was pathetic that she could even blame herself. Maka was not pathetic. "Maka, listen to me. I went alone cause I thought I could handle it. I couldn't. Okay?" She nodded and reached for the wrinkled cloth that she had grown accustomed to carrying.

"I'm sorry, I should have said yes. Or something."

"No, you shouldn't have. You are not an idiot." She nodded and straightened, wiping her face and he stiffened; taking the handkerchief from her he examined it. "Why do you have Kid's handkerchief? I can't believe he has one, what a nerd."

"No, it's nice, it comes in handy."

"Maka. Why?"

"He is a friend, Soul. That's not the point, you know that." He glared at her, like it was going to combust and burn his fingers. It didnt. "Forget the handkerchief, it's not a big deal."

"Whatever." He tossed it to her.

"I'll be back tomorrow, with books."

"See ya." He spat and his chest ached with both surgery and jealousy. Jealousy, the jealousy he had only felt for Maka and another girl in fourth grade. A jealousy that she could see other people, a jealousy of those other people. He had felt it almost two years ago, when she and Kid had to make a diagram of a witch soul. Of course, they did well, and the replica was symmetrical and almost exact. He had to come over one day and she was laughing and he was laughing; Soul was not laughing. He was frowning.

Black-Star and Tsubaki filed in for their short conversation and Maka leaned against the wall next to the bench. The damned bench. She looked at it and kicked it. _Hard._ It shook and Kid flung himself from the bench where he had been reading. It hummed like bees and the wood creaked. She pulled back her foot again to kick it once more but stopped. Kid leaned over her and peered into her face. His strange amber eyes looking into her face that was shadowed by her hair. He peered at her and straightened up once more.

"Are you mad?"

"It's my right to feel emotions, so I am mad." She crossed her arms. "The bench was in the way."

"Did Soul say anything?"

"No." She said. "Yes."

"What?" His voice was soft as he just peered into her hooded face.

"He just needs to get better so he can put up a fight." He smiled and she wrung the white linin. They both noticed how she clung to it. "Thanks for the-"

"The handkerchief?" She nodded. "Keep it." He said.

"No really." His eyes flared and she nodded, stuffing it into her coat pocket. He gave a crooked smile. They both looked at eachother and he blushed profusely. Like an angry volcano.

"I'm, um, going to get some coffee. Want some?" He asked finally.

"No." He turned away from her and scratched his neck as he paced to the neon machine and drank it slowly as he entered hospital room that smelled like salt and pain. You can't really describe the smell of pain but there is one.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So really short and sucky, but I have not given up on this fic ! I'll update very soon with a (especially) long chapter. I'm sorry !**

"Soul seems better." Tsubaki said as she took plates from one shelf, they were handpainted from Europe, perfectly circle and perfectly symmetrical. Maka cut the cucumber, not interacting in their conversation. The knife sliced once again and they all turned to the wooden board that was under her ruthless knife. She gave a raw smile and turned back to the board. Kid sighed and simply stirred a metal pot over the blue fire. She didn't cut the cucumber symmetrically and he itched to take the knife.

"Maka, let me." He reached for it and she simply extended her arm. She was not in the mood for this. "Fine, we are out of milk, can you get some?" She glared at him and he glared back. She dropped the knife with a clatter.

"Fine." She took her jacket and slammed the large wooden doors.

"Kid, tell me, how is life here at home?" Tsubaki tried to sound casual.

"What happened to Soul?" She elbowed her partner and they both looked at each other.

"Maka teaches. Soul plays around. They really are the new Stein and Spirit." He resumed cutting the cucumber. "I don't see them often enough, I went with Soul about three months ago on a mission and Maka took over for a little bit. It was seamless, yet I haven't seen her in such a long time. We never are in the same place at the same time."

"And?" Kid looked over to them, his eyes lost in his thoughts, like a child stuck in the woods.

"And? Oh right." He cleared his throat. "They go on jobs together often, Soul prefers her company to mine, but that is no surprise."

"Are you sad?" Tsubaki whispered with not much bravery.

"About Maka preferring Soul? No, why? They are partners."

"You and Soul are too."

"Not the point, Black-Star." He grumbled something in response to Kid's stern and quick voice and he finally finished chopping the slimy green vegetable. "I'm not sad about that." He said again to the pot he leaned over.

"You keep your home very nice." Tsubaki tried and Maka entered the room again. She pushed the milk carton in Kid's face and then mumbled something about cucumbers and sat. She huffed and blew a hair out of her face.

"Hows your hangover, Maka?" Black-Star shouted.

"Shut up, Black-Star." She said and fiddled with a fork. He smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: It's 1 AM and here you go, have my sleep deprived shitty "angst", you're welcome :)**

Maka never considered herself a romantic, she never considered herself a romancer either. Yet, here she was lying in her empty bed, looking into the ceiling and thinking of _him._ Yes, him, how pathetic could she get? She almost killed her partner and now she thought of someone other than Soul, who was still in a white gown with a pale face. She never considered herself a girl who pined after someone either, she had always been oblivious or naive for most feelings she had or anyone else had. Other people caught on quickly and teased her, yet she had no idea. The ceiling had four cracks in it and a part of it was darker as well. She now knew every detail in that ceiling and yet she didn't close her eyes. She wasn't thinking about him anymore she was thinking about Soul. How his blood got on her face, how warm it was, how boiling hot it burned, how it itched for days. How many showers had she taken? How many scrubs has she used to scrub her face, her body, her memories. How many meals has she skipped because of the taste of it in her mouth. It was so hot, it had burned her tongue and she had puked. How many times had she begun to pant because of his scream. How many promises had she made to her own father? Not to take those anxiety pills, not to drink, not to cry, and not to hate her own blood that she had tasted as well. His scream hurt her very core and she thought about the hospital where he laid and where he could possibly die. He seems so strong when they were there, but he was not. No, as they left he had grabbed the nurse's hand and she wiped blood from his lips.

She clawed at the sheet and got up from her smooth sheets. She sat, and dug her dirty nails into her face, she dug them into her wrist and into her ears and she wept. She screamed into her nails and cried and cried. She fell down to the floor and wrapped her arms around her body and her knees. The sheets running over her body. And she screamed into the plush pillow that had gotten exceedingly wet. She clawed at her eyes and dug her nails into her dirty cheeks and into her scalp of gold hair that was unwashed. Her gold eyes were so grey and she pulled at her clothing. Pulling it over her head and throwing it against the door, it thudded and she twitched in her sheets and screamed. She kicked at anything near her, the bed posts, the chest, the sheets. She pushed all things away from her. She pushed all things she could hurt or could hurt her away. The nights were always the worst. They made her crazy, her mind raced and she traced her knuckles and considered many things.

Morning always comes. The night is harsh and cold, but light always comes and it always streams thru the window onto the girl's face who didn't sleep. The sun always came even when not invited, but like the man who stood at her door, the sun was not uneeded. The man at her door let himself in and he yelled for her. There was no response and he yelled again. This time louder with panic. still no response and he dropped the bags he carried and raced to the brown door that was closed, he flung it open and panicked at the empty room. Only lime green sheets were seen, they fluttered and moved like a mouse trapped. Large slamming and he ran to the sheets. Also like a mouse, the girl laid there in silence, bruises up her arm and her face increasingly red and her eyes puffy. Her lips chapped and her hair greasy. She laid with her eyes open, watching the dust. She did not look at him and he shook her with frantic worry.

"Maka!" Kid cried and shook her she nodded silently and the sheets fluttered down on them and the world turned that lime green in honor. That moss green that made her look like a swan with broken wings. Like a dove with a bloody beak. Like a crown splattered in white ink. She was broken and so her arms suffered. He looked at her once and his heart ached. A rose with cut off thorns, a rose that as harmless and would die in days. A broken piano, on which, only some could play and only some could enjoy its sick music, she was those some. He reached for her, and she looked to him and winced as he touched her bruised. She sighed and didn't try to explain, she just sat up and into his arms. He held her tightly and she didn't cry this time for there was no darkness. There was no night that filled the spaces and there was no trouble. For he was there and so it was gone. He held her so tightly and she pulled herself closer to him and dug her head into his neck. They didn't talk and only the cold of her and his body was the conversation, she steadily got warmer and pressed her lips into his neck. He stiffened and she relaxed. He pulled her closer and smother her hair, brushing it down and then kissing the top of it. She said nothing. The nothingness became their everything and yet there was no need.

"You should have called me." He finally whispered into her ear.

"I'm not important."

"Maka-"

"It's okay."

"You are." He said. "Incredibly. Stupendously. Amazingly. Interestingly. You are important to me." He laughed in the silence and she looked into those strange eyes that were like the sun that she so loved now. They were like the sunflowers and poppies. They were like the essence of happiness. And he was a god. She reached up to his face, her hand wavering in the air and she pressed her thumb onto his lips and pulled him down to her. His lips cold and pressing onto hers, it was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced, it was strange, like their souls embraced and their mind and body absorbed each other, like it was meant to happen like it had to happen. It was annoyingly short for both sides involved. And as she reached for him once again he got up, he took her hand and pulled her up. This was when he noticed she had no shirt on.

"I brought you something."

"Really?" She asked, her voice raspy. He said nothing about the missing shirt and wasn't going to. He picked up the bags from the store he had brought and nodded. He held out a plant for her, a tomato plant, and she took it from him. His face was even red like a tomato as well, not for the obvious reason but because of the kiss. He should have kissed her again and now he thought about it. He would think about it on the way home and he would think about it in his bed and squeal. He tapped his lips and smiled as he turned away. "We should name it."

"Hmm."

"Every child needs a name, Kid, we are parents now, god." She said and looked at it. Her face getting consumed by the starchy leaves. He smiled larger like an orange slice at those words and it made his heart beat hard and his eyes dilate. It was good she was so tired or she would have felt it change.

"How about Ares? The god of war."

"Yes, it is red which is like blood." She slammed the plant down on the table and the dirt spilled over the edges. She stared at her knuckles once more, tracing them, feeling and touching her skin. Kid mopped up the dirt with his hands and looked to her. Her face red and no so so pale and sickly.

"Maka?"

"Coffee! We need coffee."

"I'll make it."

"No no. It's ok, I like to make coffee. I like the smell and the way it grinds in your fingers and the way the machines tick and the way-" She rambled and he held her shoulders.

"Maka-"

"I tasted his blood, Kid!"

"That is the strangest fetish."

"When he fell, his blood went in mouth." She cried and began to claw at her face. Her hands slammed into the wall and into her face and into the table. "I hate me! I hate mee!" She yelled and he reached out for her. Her fist punching his wrist as he grabbed her arms. His wrist bloomed in red hurt and she whimpered. "I ruin all good things." She said and looked at his wrist and traced the small flower.

"Maka, you could never ruin anything."

"Yes, I could!"

"No, you couldn't."

"Can we kiss again?" She asked and the bags under her eyes and the flowers that bloomed on her arms spoke for her logic and he nodded. He cupped her head and she hugged him close and they stood like loving trees, melted into the ground, kissing each others blooming flowers and lips.

"Stay with me," he said to the girl sipping the lumpy coffee he made. He preferred tea but would suffer thru the coffee for her. He had added sugar and yet it was still bitter as hell. "So you don't get hurt again."

"Kid, Im not that pathetic."

"Sadness is not weakness! I did the same thing when my father died, remember?" She nodded. "I wished someone would have been there for me."

"I'm sorry I wasn't."

"No, that doesn't matter."

"Yes it does, you are too good."

"No, just too people I lo- strongly care about." She smiled at this and sipped the coffee he made. He was obviously a tea person, she thought. "Stay with me until Soul returns home?" She now nodded and he smiled and drank the coffee, he then spat it out and winced at it. She laughed. "Let's go get some food." He said and took both their coffee cups and put them in the sink. He held her hand and they walked out into the hot Nevada sun that demanded their attention, it slept in the heavy grapefruit sky as they walked down from the stairs onto the street. Swinging their arms happily and she felt happy. She had now noticed this. She felt truly, incredibly, amazingly, stupendously and strangely happy.


	6. egg's shitty psa

A/N: Hey so guess who is the least creative person ever? ME. yeah, so if you have any ideas for this story please add them to the reviews so this story can keep going. If I had an idea on which direction this was going, it would probably be updated sooner and have longer chapters. so please please hit me up with your ideas and I'll write them out. Also, I'm taking prompts for any ships/pairings (that I know) over the couple of days, so send me those as well.

Thank you lovelies! dont hate me btw


End file.
